


Last Chance- The Musical Bar

by Ladibard_Wordsmith28



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cedric Diggory Lives, Drinking & Talking, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Multi, Musical Instruments, Not Cheating, One Night Stands, Piano, Seduction, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:36:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25859080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladibard_Wordsmith28/pseuds/Ladibard_Wordsmith28
Summary: Shocked by Ron's Betrayal on the eve of their third anniversary, Hermione makes a quick decision to listen to Luna Lovegood and find the door to 'Last Chance". The Ravenclaw had given her its key, instructing her to look for it by the Wishing Well of Willsmith. She found music that tantalized her senses, she tasted concoctions that fogged her mind and made her forget the rest of the world for a night. And somewhere in between all that, she allowed herself to feel like a woman in the waiting arms of the Pianist from Dublin and the Cellist from Budapest. (Au) (one-shot) (triad)
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger/Cedric Diggory/Theodore Nott, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott, Luna Lovegood/Rolf Scamander
Kudos: 9





	Last Chance- The Musical Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR. My mind lives in the Harry Potter fanfiction world though my body is still thankfully anchored in the monotonous reality of existence. My themes, plotline, and storyline may, therefore, get indirectly influenced by many of the brilliant fanfiction writers on this site. And I humbly bow to such creative genius who give me much needed literary pleasures to see through the toils of mundane life. Lastly, I would like to thank Restricted section multi & triad and The fairest of Rare pairs (18) admins to tempt me into thinking out of the box. Reviews would encourage this introvert writer to peep out of her literary closet. Cedric/Theo/Hermione

**Last Chance- the musical Bar**

Apparating right beside the Wishing Well Magical Store of Madam Petunia Willsmith’s wacky souvenirs, Hermione Granger shuddered. The shop was located practically in the middle of nowhere. Though a mountain trail went up the hill from right behind it. Luna’s strange letter had brought her here. “When you are truly upset, Hermione, you can find peace right next to Willsmith’s Wishing Well. trust me, it will take you to a place, you wished you had been before, and when you come back, you will feel like a new person.”

The image of Ron and two of his fans wrapped in his arms devouring one another was still vivid in her mind. It was their third anniversary and the witch wanted to spend it with her husband after months of staying apart. She whispered into the evening air, drawing her cloak tightly around her shivering body, “All I wanted was to see him smile at me, like the way he smiled while we got married. All I wanted was to surprise him!” Wiping off her tears, she sat at the bench, beside the closed shop and looked at the distance, wondering what had she done to push her husband away? Was it her fault that the man chose to seek comfort in someone else?

Gritting her teeth she decided,” Of course, he was cheating all this time. And I thought it's just a smudge over his shirt collar, or it could have been a fan hugging him enthusiastically right before he apparated”, brushing her cheeks vigorously, she felt around her cloak pocket and retrieved the small key. Eyeing it with trepidation, she thought,” Why should I spoil my fun because my husband chose to forget...like always I will be mature in this relationship. Well, as long as it will last. Because once this night is over, once I am sure I am not going back and aiming a reducto at his jewels, I am done with Ronald Weasley!”

_Luna Scamander had given her the strange-looking key and had whispered into her ears,” Hermione if you ever feel the office of Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is too much and the Burrow too claustrophobic, you can hold this and whisper thrice ‘Last Chance’ and trust me, you will forget those worries that keep chasing you around.”_

_Hermione Weasley had arched her brow and snorted,” Seriously, I think you need a key to a honeymoon destination, not me!” twirling the strange-looking key,” And anyway, Ron’s quite busy, after transferring to the Kenmare Kestrels.” But the witch had smiled back sadly at her, before taking the portkey to America. She was going to shift there permanently and help her husband Rolf at the Sanctuary of Endangered Magical creatures._

“Even Luna saw it coming!” clutching the key firmly, she squared her shoulders and whispered the name,”Last Chance,” thrice. For a moment nothing happened. Then right there in front of her eyes, a door appeared. Its keyhole glistening eerily and a strange strain of music coming from the other side. Biting her lips, looking around cautiously, she stood up and walked up to it. Pulling her wand out she muttered a couple of spells, but when the door turned out to be just an innocent portal, she inhaled deeply. Putting the key inside the keyhole, she turned it slowly, heard the telltale clicking of the lock and pushed the open door ajar. It was neither too dark nor was it lit up, but there was a calming luminance tracing her features. A moment later, she walked in and closed the door.

“How drunk am I?” she slurred as two hands held her closed and kneaded her taut muscles. 

The voice hummed and replied,”Just a little, Palinka is rather a nice substitute to butterbeer or the muggle root beer. And Red wine is on the house, but tequila gives you that tingling feeling, and the rest burns your dormant senses alight.”

When he started dragging his nails over her bare spine, she moaned and whispered,” I know you. You are the cellist from Budapest.” They were just swaying with the music. The air was thick and the lights dim and someone was playing the piano just close by.

She knew it was close by because right before the cello had stopped playing and a man had invited her to dance with him, the pianist had given her a very personal piano lesson.

Intimately personal. He had literally pulled her away from the barstool, where she had been mopping and drinking. Leading her close to the grand instrument, he had helped her sit in between his long legs and had led her trembling fingers to run over the long keys. 

In his husky voice, he had guided her,” Look at those innocent black and white keys. Apart they are just black and white, but when you run your fingers over them, they first melt in the shades of grey and as your mood lifts up you continue to add fresh colors to it.” She had felt his lips ghosting over her neck and his breath had warmed her back. His hands had held onto her fingers delicately. 

A while later, when her foggy brain had decided to lean against him, he had invited her,” get rid of those stupid heels and put your feet over mine. It’s about time, I should teach you how to connect with the soul of this gentle giant, and from there we can press our ears over his heart and hear that soft ethereal tone. And then perhaps if time permits I can show you the new meaning of sustenance.”

She had whispered the words,” Gentle Giant,” and at her admission, the man behind had bent his head and kissed her exposed neck affectionately.

Long fingered dancing over her back drew her out of her reverie. The calm and gentle voice asked,” Got lost in the past, Granger?”

She corrected him,” Its Mrs. Weasley.”

He countered,” But your mind begs to differ.”

“Can you read my mind as well, Mr. Cellist?”

The piano stopped once the recital was truly over. And a moment later two more arms rested over her already swaying hip. This was surreal, dancing with two men, whose faces though looked familiar but she couldn’t recognise them. Shaking her head, Hermione slurred,” I think I am drunk, really horribly drunk, because I am dancing with two men instead of Ron. And…” she laughed mirthlessly. A finger rubbed over her chapped lips and the pianist behind her kissed her neck once again. Leaning against his back, she allowed her tears to fall freely, acutely aware, that the man was no longer wearing his black suit. Instead, his shirt buttons were brushing against her back.

She mumbled as the fingers of the cellist continued wiping off her tears for her,” I never wore this dress. I always thought this was too bold…”

The two listeners whispered in unison,” It looks perfect on you.”

She eyed the man in front and asked genuinely interested,” Why are you comparing me with your cello?”

“What gave my secret away?” he bent forward and kissed the corner of her pouting lips.

“Your fingers...they were fiddling over my back.”

He replied slily,” You have a gorgeous back.”

The pianist busied himself by nipping her stretched neck, while the cellist kissed her chin and continued his seductive ministrations down her throat, down her v neckline, till he hovered above her navel and looked up at her pleadingly.

“If I allow you to continue, will I be cheating on Ron?”

The pianist had mirrored the man in front of her and was licking the last exposed skin at the base of the small of her back. He ran his tongue over the hidden zip and hummed,” We aren’t trying to make you feel guilty Granger, we are trying to make you see how gorgeous a woman you are and that you shouldn’t think much into Ron’s betrayal. It is not his fault if he can't see that you are as sensual as a siren and as responsive as a vixen in heat.”

She swayed on her feet relishing the heat radiating forming the pit of her stomach. She realized she had really missed this feeling of being aroused and wanted to find pleasure. Realised for the first time, Ron never waited for her to finish, neither did he work too hard to make her climax along with him. She had already decided to walk alone. Leaving Ron at the crossroads, far behind. She would enjoy this night, celebrating being a woman. 

Twisting one arm behind her, she pulled the pianist up, dragging the cellist up along with him. As she stood in front of them, feeling their heat caressing her vibrating skin with anticipation, she peered at their face to inspect their dilated eyes, flared nostrils, wet lips, and bobbing Adams’ apple. 

“I need to know who you are. And why is this place called ‘Last Chance’?” she begged, fighting to grab hold of her steadily slipping away rationality.

Together they had hugged her, and kissed the pulse points throbbing on her neck and had murmured against her sweating skin,” Theodore Nott, the Cellist from Budapest and Cedric Diggory, the pianist from Dublin at your service.” In between their eager kisses they also informed,” Last chance is our Musical Bar, a property which we acquired from Lovegood. The fact that we are alive and pursuing our dreams is a miracle. We consider this freedom of choice as a second chance and at best the very last one we can relish in our lifetime.”

Hermione rolled the words over her parted lips,” Last Chance, how apt.”

“Granger?” two voices echoed next to her ears.

“Yes?”

“Are you forgetting something?”

She smiled and stepped back a bit and a moment later her red wine velvet evening gown pooled around her naked feet.


End file.
